


Fated Moon.

by SullysSkull



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Poly, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullysSkull/pseuds/SullysSkull
Summary: In 1971 Hermione Greyback, daughter of Fenrir's Greyback, is going to Hogwarts.





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione didn't know where she was. The sun was sinking down and hiding in the tops of the trees that towered overhead.

"Mamma!" she called out, the words echoing.

She was hungry and thirsty and so tired. Her feet ached, the flashing lights on the sole of her shoes cast colourful beams with each weary step.

The cracking of a branch alerted Hermione to someone's approach.

"Hello? Is that you Mamma?" Hermione called spinning on her heels in the direction of the sound.

"What are you doing out in the woods by yourself pup?" A towering man questioned from behind.

Hermione spun around, her jaw dropping at the sight of the giant man, his face severe, covered in hair and scars. His intense animalistic eyes shining brightly in the darkening woods.

"I've lost my Mamma," she told the man, before remembering her manners and her parent's warnings. "My name is Hermione, but I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I'm Fenrir," he replied. "Where did you last see your Mamma?" Fenrir inquired.

"She was there when I went to sleep, we've been camping, and gone when I work up."

"Hmm," Fenrir hummed, tilting his head, eyes narrowing in thought. "Come with me and I'll see what I can do about your parents." Fenrir could sense something about this child. She was a witch, no doubt, she wouldn't have made it through the warding had she not been, but there seemed to be something intruding about the pup.

"I'm not supposed to follow strangers, or talk to them," Hermione repeated unsure.

"Good rules," Fenrir nodded before bringing his fingers to his lips and releasing a piercing whistle.

From the woods, a woman appeared. Hermione theorized that she must have been travelling close by, probably waiting for Fenrir's call.

"This is Melissa, she a woman from my pack -"

"Pack?"

"Tribe. From my tribe." Fenrir continued eyes narrowing in annoyance at the interruptions. "She'll take you to get some food and water while I'll go see if I can find your parents."

"It's only my Mamma." Hermione informed him, "I don't have a Papa."

Fenrir waved his hand at the pup and wordlessly stomped off in the direction that the girl scent was strongest.

-

"Hello, my name is Melissa and you are?"

"I'm Hermione," she replied timidly.

Melissa bent down in front of the girl, "just over the hill there is my pac- uh tribes camp, there we'll get you some food and water and let you rest up."

Rising to her feet again, Melissa offered the child her hand. After a second of thinking, Hermione grabbed it and the pair made their way into towards the pack's camp.

-

When Fenrir arrived back at the camp, the sun had long abandoned the sky and the moon hung heavy among the stars.

Near the centre of the pack, Fenrir located Melissa watching over the pup. The curly haired child was fast asleep, curled up in a ball with her wild locks concealing her face.

Fenrir lent down and pulled the animals hides up high, silently watching the child snuggle down.

"Her mother?" Melissa asked breaking the silence.

"No sign of her. The scent is faint, I would guess that she left some time ago, earlier morning, I don't know how long the pup has been walking around, or when she woke up."

The silence grew again, Melissa got up from her seat near Hermione's head with a final soft pat of her hand on Hermione's soft curls, reaching out and drawing Fenrir into her embrace. Fenrir just tightened his grip around his mate.

"There's something about her."

"I know I can sense it too," she said. "What are we going to do with her."

"Her mother abandoned her," Fenrir replied. "We can dump her with the humans but she'd have to deal with muggles that don't understand her."

"We could drop her at the Ministry, maybe there can be some magical adoption."

"There's still no guaranteeing that she'll be looked after. The last thing she needs is to be adopted by some pureblood bastard after more free labour."

"We could keep her," Melissa spoke quietly.

"Us?" Fenrir questioned, looking down at his mate with his piercing yellow eyes.

"I want a pup Fen. When she wakes we'll ask her what she wants then we'll decide what will happen. I hope she'll stay though."

Fenrir didn't comment but hoped just the same.

-

"Where is she?" Fenrir was interrupted by his mate bursting into the hut where he was holding a meeting with the elders.

"What?"

"Hermione! I can't find her. She's not in the hut, she isn't down by the river. The mothers watching the pups haven't seen her. I can't lose my pup Fenrir!" Melissa cried her voice cracking. "I can't locate her."

"Excuse me," Fenrir spoke to the elders, "I must find my pup. I would like to regroup at days end or in the morning."

Fenrir was Alpha, he didn't have to wait for an answer. They might be the wisdom of the pack but he was the leader, the protected.

Fenrir rushed out of the tent, his mate at his heel, scenting the air for any sign of his wayward daughter.

He caught the faint scent of his human daughter on the wind. "Stay my mate, I will return with her."

"You leave this meeting for a human?" The disgust rolled off the tongue of the man exiting the tent Fenrir had just vacated. "We are pack. She isn't one of us."

Fenrir turned snarling, crawls extended and teeth lengthening, the sharp canines threatening the throat of any that dare disrespect the Alpha, his mate or his family.

"Know your place, Anacio," Fenrir growled, tightening his gripping and allowing sharp crawls to pierce the skin. "Or loss your neck."

Fenrir dropped the elder man and rushed off into the woods, the longer he waited the more likely the scent would be carried away on the wind.

It was the scent of blood that altered Fenrir when he grew close to the pack boundary line. He could smell the scent of his pack infused in the wards, and a sharp iron scent that caused his blood to simultaneous quicken and cool. Lying prone in a mess of scattered limb was Hermione.

She looked so fragile, so doll-like in her motionless pale form. The crimson pool of blood surrounded her, drenching the ground in the copper liquid.

"Pup!" Fenrir shouted, crashing down on his knees. His hands hovered over her, afraid to hurt her.

Fenrir had never been bad at wandless magic, but in that second he was powerful, calling his wand from where it sat in the packs camp to his hand with a voiceless, 'Accio'.

Fenrir pushed his magic core to response, pulling at it as he performed every healing spell he could think of in quick succession, his mind racing to recall wand movements and incantations.

When he had healed all that was in his power to Fenrir picked up his pup, gently lifting the weightless unresponsive frame in his arms, cradling her to his chest and ran faster then he had ever before.

The full moon wouldn't be for weeks, having just occurred, but Fenrir pulled at the wolfish part of his soul. Calling it to respond to the call of pack blood being spilt, for fuel his strength to make it back to the pack in time to save his pup.

Fenrir had to stop a further three times to reapply healing charms, his frantic movements warring with his need to remain calm enough to make it back as soon as possible.

When he did finally make it to the pack camp, he rushed past the tribesmen, didn't stop for his mates called instead rushing to the centre of the camp where the elders, children and healer resided.

Wordlessly Fenrir pushed past the cloth barring entrance into the healer's tent, placing his daughter down on the cot that the Healer had gestured to.

Removing himself from the tent at the Healers' command Fenrir was meet with his mate.

"Mate," Melissa whispered, taking in his form, taking in the blood that bathed his skin, drying in fractured blotches, clinging to the hairs of his chest and destroying the fabric of his pants. "Is she -" Melissa broke off unsure if she wanted the answer.

"She alive, but, but there was so much blood." Fenrir croaked haunted. His hands, still displaying claws that had yet to sink back into his nail-bed, griped at his wild locks.

"I can't lose her," Melissa whispered as her mate pulled into his embrace, her face in the hollow of his throat, one of the only places without blood.

-

Fenrir stood over Hermione, the scene not dissimilar to the one that happened months ago, his mate sat at the pups head, smoothing her hair and he watched over them both.

Only this time, tears fell continuously down his mate pale cheeks, her hand shaking with ever touch, the knot in her throat causing words to get stuck.

Watching his mate with his pale pup Fenrir couldn't help but dwell on the words of the Healer. Even St Mungo couldn't save her. There was too much damage. Fenrir had been prepared to give himself up, to face going to Azkaban just so his pup would live but had been informed that it was a pointless endeavour. Too much was broke, no potions or wand movements could reverse the damage.

"Do it," Melissa commanded of her Alpha. "Do it now Fenrir, before its too late."

"She might not want this life."

"She won't have a life if you don't do it."

"It's taking away her free will. I want her just as much as you do but I don't want her to resent me because I was the one to rip her away from everything she is."

"When has that stopped you before." Melissa snarled, lips curling over sharp teeth. Fenrir's sharp intake of breath forced her to realise what she had said so carelessly. "Fen, Fen, I'm so sorry, I'm not thinking. You know I know that you aren't like that anymore. I'm sorry I just can't bear for her to die. I need her. We need her. Fenrir, please." Melissa pleaded.

Fenrir swallowed the memory of his past, of his vicious youth, of the blood that stained his hands and the lives he'd ruined or taken. Forcing his mind to focus on now. On his pack, his beautiful mate and his dying daughter.

"Fine." Fenrir relented with a solemn and fortifying breath. "Leave, I will do it."

Melissa removed their daughters head from its place in her lap, resting the curly locks on the soft makeshift fur pillow.

Fenrir took her place, drawing his daughter up into his embrace. Already, even as she breathed, her skin was cooling. This was their only chance, Hermione's only chance.

When his mate was posed to cross the threshold, Fenrir stalled her with his words, "Tell Anacio that he got what he wanted. There will be no humans in this pack." With those final words, Fenrir bit down on Hermione's dainty wrist as Melissa turned away and the left the tent. Left Fenrir to bleed their daughter, left him to give her the gift that the Wizarding World would hate her for.

-

"Today is your first shift Hermione," Melissa began from her place in Fenrir's lap, her hand holding onto Hermione's. "We'll be right there with you."

"Will it hurt?" Hermione hadn't seen a shift but over the course of the few months that she had lived here she had heard it. From the warded and barricade stone cabin that Fenrir had spent almost an entire month building for her. "It sounds like it hurts"

"A bit, not much," Fenrir lied.

When he was not much older then Hermione he had been bitten. He had been taunted about the pain of transforming. The agony of every bone snapping and reshaping. But fear of the shift made it all the more painful, so he lied. He lied and would deal with her censor after the shift because he knew she would worry herself, would end up in more pain than necessary.

"It will hurt, but no one can remember the pain after the shift," he could, but no other wolf could. "You'll only know that it hurt, you won't remember with any clarity."

Hermione thought for a few seconds, before nodding, there wasn't much else she could do.

"Its time," Fenrir told the women, standing with an arm out to escort each witch out into the woods.

When the moon hung high above the pack of werewolves Hermione felt the first stirring of the creature beneath her skin. Then the pain. Bones slowly popped from their sockets, muscles straining, stretching and tearing under the force of the wolf, desperate to greet the moon. Hermione threw her head back and yelled. The hoarse scream echoing as her back broke, cracking as each bone elongated and grew stronger. Her nails fell from their bed, in their place yellow stain claws, deadly weapons.

The vomit inducing pain in her face fracturing and reshaping was Hermione's last thought before she was overcome by the wolf. There was no turning back, she was a werewolf.


	2. Chapter 2

Papa was hiding. She had checked all his usual haunts but found no trace of him. He disappeared before the sun was up and now was hiding away like it could stop today from happening.

Closing her eyes Hermione lent back against the trunk of a nearby tree, letting her body release its stress, focusing on the scents around her until she could pinpoint her Papa’s scent.

It was a week after her eleventh birthday, her father had promised her that she could go to Wizarding Britain to get her wand and the necessary equipment for her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even though that wouldn’t be until almost a whole year had passed, being born after the cut off date for the previous year. On her birthday a regal looking grey owl had delivered a letter addressed to Hermione J, Granger, of the second room of the Alpha’s tent. She had been beyond excited since she had received her letter but knew he father held some reservation about the Wizarding world. Her mother had personally gone to see the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore to request her attendance, normally werewolf children were not given the opportunity to attend Hogwarts but the Headmaster had told her Ma that this year another werewolf child would be attending so concessions could be made for two.

She pushed this all from her mind, and when she located his scent, Hermione shot off in his directions, eager to get her prey. When the scent grew strong enough to indicate the presence of the person Hermione stopped.

“Papa! Stop hiding I need to go get my wand! And I need to get my books. If I don’t I might fall behind. I want to fit in so I need to go get everything.” Hermione called her father although she didn’t see him.

“We need to have a talk,” Fenrir didn’t want to, he didn’t want to explain his faults, the depth of his evilness. He didn’t want to chance that his daughter might turn her back on him. “You’ll be joining the world of witches and wizards next year but before you can you must understand how being my daughter will not be an easy path.”

“I’ll never regret being your daughter, you saved my life. Twice!” Hermione vehemently denied his claim.

Fenrir herded his daughter, taking a seat on the log of a fallen tree. It had been ripped from its roots by Fenrir when the moon-shift had ended and he could think again. He had used claws that he forced out to slash away at the base of the ancient oak until it had fallen. Fallen as Hermione had from its branches the day she had wandered away from the pack mothers.

“I’ve never told you how I became infected with lycanthropy.” Hermione fell silent, the changing was a private thing. Not to be discussed. The pack didn’t like talking about their origins, it was a taboo subject. “I was about eight, maybe nine or ten, I can’t remember clearly it happens so long ago now, but I remember waking up alone with no memory or a time before my shifts. I don’t know if it was the trauma or if maybe my parents Obliviated me, but I can’t recall anything beyond that.

“I grew resentful, I was a child with no memory and no one to support me. As a werewolf, no witch or wizard wanted anything to do with me, and as a male werewolf that showed early potential to become an Alpha, no werewolf that I encountered would help me. I was angry, so so angry. And I wasn’t just anger I was lonely.”

“Didn’t anyone help you, Papa?” Hermione interrupted, her hand reaching out to lay against Fenrir’s larger hairy one.

“No,” Fenrir replied darkly, remember days of fear, such intense fear and loneliness that he thought he would die from it when he wished that he could die from it.

“In my anger, I grew hateful. As a way to cope, I forced myself to face what I was, and what that meant. I began to believe that werewolves were the superior race, that we deserved to be above all wizards, witches and creatures. I hated that there weren’t more werewolves, that our kind was subject to such hatred. So I did it.”

Fenrir fell silent, uneasy nibbled at her stomach. “Did what?”

“I began to change people,” Fenrir admitted. “I would position myself so that when the change took hold I would turn as many people as I could. I wanted a pack, so I made one.” Greyback took a deep breath, the words burned his throat like regret burned his thoughts. “When the adults could fight back…children could not.”

“You turned people against their will.” She didn’t question, it was a statement. “You hurt children.”

“Yes,” Fenrir answered anyway, praying that even as she removed her arm she wouldn’t remove herself from him, she was vital to him, his pup.

“What changed?”

“I began to lose control of the wolf, even on days when the moon-shift was a fleeting thought. I was aggressive, vile and barely a creature. When I understood this, I hid away, striving to control myself. Meeting your mother helped. Through the Alpha bond, I called all I had changed and I swore an Oath to them. We would be a pack and I would never change a person as I had.”

“And since then? You’ve never changed someone, right.”

Fenrir swallowed the bile that reappeared in his throat. “It happened a year before I found you in the woods. Your Ma and this is not an excuse, but your Ma was under pressure from her family when they found out that we were mates - Not that they knew the full implications of mating - she’d go to her family, stay with them, they convinced her to leave me. And I was weak.” Fenrir admitted. “So bloody weak, on the night of the full moon I gave Freewill to the wolf.”

Hermione gasped. Over and over she’d been warned about the need for balance between Wolf and Witch. Never, never should either part ever control the reins completely.

“When I woke, I was covered in blood. I tracked the scent, it was to the Lupin residence. The elder Lupin had almost caused me to go to Azkaban for suspicion of being a werewolf and my crimes, as well I should have, but they didn’t have any evidence so I was let free. But Lupin had insulted me, my wolf and my kinsmen. He called us vermin, said that we were diseased ridden and should be killed off like we are less than dogs. Without consent, my wolf sought retribution.” Fenrir coughed, his self-hate rising again, “he was younger then I was when I had been changed.”

 

Hermione understood that why it has been the elder Lupin that had caused the offence it was the younger that paid the price for his father's prejudices, “What happened to him?”

“His family hid his secret and it was never spoken of. They moved and I couldn’t and didn’t track him. I don’t think he’d want me anywhere near him. I’m sure he was taken care of though, the Lupins despite being werewolf haters were a good family from what I could gather from others. A few months later I tried to seek him out, to see how he was coping with the shift but I discovered I couldn’t find him, anti-scent warding. I hoped he was okay and took it as a sign that his parents were standing by him,” Fenrir shook his head as if to wash it away. If he thought on it too long the doubts would resurface. Lord Lupin had been vehemently against werewolves but his loyalty and love for family was well-known.

“Bearing the name of Greyback will not be easier, I understand if you wish to renounce it so that you suffer fewer problems in the Wizarding World.”

The pair fell into an uncomfortable silence as Hermione sorted through her thoughts. Her view of her father had dramatically shifted. She organised her thoughts, reviewing everything she knew of her father and how this man and the one he talked of could be the same person.

“I love you,” Hermione finally spoke, “but I think I need some time. Can we go to Diagon Alley next week?”

“Whenever you want sweetheart.”

 

Diagon Alley was magnificent, a wonder and a feast for all the sense. For Hermione, who had spent almost six years in seclusion it was a mixture of wonderfulness and overwhelming anxiety.  
“I remember the first time I came here,” Melissa told her daughter fondly as she watched her look around, jaw dropped.  
“We need to get your wand first.” Fenrir reminded the pair, "then we can get your school supplies, and after we do that we can get you some more books.”  
“To Ollivander’s?” Hermione asked eagerly, bouncing on the tips of her toes, looking up at her glamoured father.  
While still the same towering height, the elder werewolf didn’t look anything like his true form, Fenrir’s long black hair now looked a dark blonde, cut short. His skin was shallower and his eyes had lost that gleam that put people on edge. He was still an imposing looking man but at now he wouldn’t run the risk of being dragged to Azkaban by Aurors.

The trio made their way to Ollivander’s where Fenrir opted to remain outside, he didn’t wish to not be apart of this but he knew Ollivander remembered every wand and every wizard he had sold them too, the old man could see beyond glamours. As a werewolf Fenrir hadn’t brought his wand at Ollivander's, he hadn’t even brought one, instead stealing a few till he found one that suited his magic.

“Ah,” a grey-haired man that Hermione guessed was Ollivander from behind the counter, “Ms Granger, ten-inches, Rowan wood, dragon heartstring medium flexibility, a good sturdy wand. And you must be the young Miss Granger.”  
“Hermione,” she replied, “Hermione Granger. Its a pleasure to meet you, Mr Ollivander.”

They had chosen to use her mothers maiden name and since her parent’s mate-bond wasn’t recognised by the Wizarding World it was still her Ma legal name. It didn’t fit in the way that Greyback did but Granger was a good substitute for now. Fenrir and Melissa had decided it was too great a risk for Hermione to carry the Greyback name. Too many enemies had been made, and many would seek revenge in any way they could, Hermione was a weak spot for Fenrir one that many disgruntled people would take advantage of.

“The pleasure is mine,” Ollivander said before whipping out a tape measure that measured her hands, her arm length and even the circumstance of her head. “Ah,” the man repeated when the tape measure returned to him and he had the lengths, “I know just the wand.”  
When he returned from scrambling around the shop, up ladders, and under piles, on top of shelves and around the bottom of them, he presented five wands.  
“Well give them a go,” Ollivander encouraged.  
Hermione moved forward and picked up the first wand, it was brownish wand with a curve near the handle, with a flick of her wrist she managed to set alight paperwork that had been sitting on the counter. Quickly she placed the wand back down.  
With encouragement from her mother, Hermione picked up the second wand, like the first it was brown but completely straight. This wand produced a gust of wind the knocked over a leaning piled of wands. That wand was set down too.  
The third wand was pale, and if she didn’t know any better Hermione would have thought it was a twig and not a wand.  
When Hermione picked up the wand a warmth filled her chest. This was her wand, she knew it.

“Fourteen and a half inches, firm, Acacia wood with dragon heartstring as the core. Very good wand, very powerful.”  
“Powerful?” Hermione asked, tilting her head and a way that Fenrir was prone to do.  
“The core was gifted to my great great grandfather who created wands from it, wands with the same core given by the same creature, very few dragons will ever give more than a single heartstring. A temperamental wand, but suited for its host.”

After that, the trio had gathered all Hermione school supplies and was now in Flourish and Blotts with Hermione looking for books and the parents standing off from the counter ready to pay when she returned.  
Hermione wanted as many books as she was allowed, she didn’t want to be clueless when she went to Hogwarts, after all, she’d be a year older then most, most likely, and if she was good at magic maybe then she’d have a lot of friends. Friends that didn’t mind that she was a werewolf or that her father was who he was.

Wondering around Hermione with her head in a book bumped into someone, thankfully only stumbling and not dropping the interesting book on the fundamentals of transfiguration, it wasn’t the book required for a first year, but it was interesting.  
“I’m sorry, are you alright?” A black haired boy asked, reaching out his hand to steady her.  
“I’m alright, it was my fault anyway, my Papa always warns me not to walk with my head in my books. I’m Hermione Grey, I mean Granger, Hermione Granger, who are you? Have you found anything interesting to read?”  
“Sirius Black,” the boy said, running his hand through his wavy black hair, “It nice to meet you, and no, I’m hiding from my mother not reading.” He told her plastering his body against the bookcase and peering around cautiously.  
“What does she look like? I can help you hide,” Hermione offered, she didn’t often get the chance to talk to people her own age, there were some younger pups but it wasn’t the same.  
“Scary,” Sirius replied, “like a Dementor,” he shuddered. “With the face of a pinched dragon.”  
Hermione had never heard anyone described quite like that before and could only reply with a quite confused, “oh.”  
Trying to think of something to say made her less observant and before Hermione could warn Sirius of the cloud of black gliding from behind the woman had arrived.  
“Sirius!” A woman called as she came to a stand beside Hermione and Sirius. “You are a Black, behave like one!” the woman’s curled lips reminded her of a snarling dog.  
“And you are?” the woman asked turning on Hermione, with a sniff as she looked her up and down.  
“I’m Hermione Granger, Ma’am,” She said curtsying in the way her mother had taught her too.  
“Hmm,” the woman grunted, “Knows how to respect her betters, a half-blood then, though I don’t recognise the name. Come along Sirius we don’t dally with those that are beneath us.”  
Sirius gave Hermione a rigid smile and shook his head, following after his rude mother with his head down and shoulders slumped.

In a daze, Hermione wondered back to her parents where they paid for the products.

-

The months in between then and her going to Hogwarts the year after were spent reading and learning everything she could without actually using her wand. Hermione had devoured her books and had made several trips back to Diagon Alley to purchase more, she had often had to swap books in an effort to not be swamped with books. Living a semi-nomadic life made it difficult to keep belongings beyond what was necessary. 

Hermione didn’t see the Black boy again though she always made a point of looking for him in the busy streets. Maybe he could be a friend when they went to Hogwarts, she hoped at least.

-

Soon it was a week before Hogwarts begun and Hermione and her parents were going over how the school would deal with her condition.

“We’ve been promised that you’ll be taken care of each full moon. Every month you’ll have to plead sickness you can rejoin classes after you’ve healed enough.”

“Won’t I miss out on a lot of work, I really don’t want to fall behind.”  
Fenrir chuckled shaking his head, “I doubt that my daughter could fall behind with anything, but the Headmaster has promised your mother that your gift wouldn’t influence your schooling.” Fenrir still had many steadfast reservations about the Wizarding World and Albus Dumbledore. Despite his past actions he still firmly believed that lycanthropy was a gift.

“Does he know I’m a Greyback?” Hermione asked wondering if it would colour his treatment of her.

“No,” Melissa answered. “Your name would have appeared in the Attendance Book the year of your birth but with the adoption ritual, we performed your name changed to mine.  
“I want you to take care of yourself, I know you are a brave, smart girl but I know how your drive can make you single-minded. Studying is important but so it socializing and making friends.”

“Will anyone know about me? Will the other boy know?”

“I think so,” Melissa answered, trying to remember what the Headmaster has said in regards to the other werewolf child. “I would be healthy for your wolves to interact together to stave off loneliness and help the shifts be easier. I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t know each other.”

After a spell of silence, Fenrir spoke, “you can’t tell anyone. Wizards and Witches don’t understand the gift. They think we’re less then we are, not even human.”

“But want if I make friends?” Hermione asked, “it would be wrong not to tell them the truth.”

“Not even then,” Fenrir replied recalling the censor of his life, of the hatred of his kind and their gift. 

\--

Albus Dumbledore sat in a periwinkle robe with little candies stitched into the fabric, a hideous yellow teacup in his wrinkled hands and the damnable twinkle in his eyes. In front of him sat Lord and Lady Lupin and their child the Young Master Remus Lupin.

Said boy sat in front of the Headmasters desk with his legs crossed and shoulders curled, eyes cast to the ground. If one were to look closely - and Dumbledore was in the habit of doing so - you would see behind a long lock of hay coloured hair a piece of plaster tapped to the boy's jaw. Werewolves healed quickly but not from self-inflicted wounds.

“I don’t what his curse to be revealed to anyone,” Lord Lupin swore, not looking at his son.

“It was my decision to allow a werewolf child to attended Hogwarts and in that wisdom, I have decided that only I, the boy’s Head of House and the Matron of our fine school should be informed.”

“No one else?” The elder Lupin asked.

“No,” The Headmaster replied.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione grinned, her hair whipping around her as her hands gripped her seat, she decidedly liked the Knight Bus. By the pale greenish colour of her Melissa, Hermione deduced that her mother did not.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths,” Melissa chanted before squeaking as the Knight Bus tilted on one side dangerously before coming to a violent stop with a bang.

They had made it to Kings Cross Station, right on time.

“Come on Mum, can’t be late.” Melissa just growled in response.

Hermione only ever went into the human or the Wizarding world when the pack need something. The pack would go into little towns that would barter for animal pelts, fresh game and flora that wasn’t easily accessed and when the pack needed wands or potions a small group would head to the Wizarding world. The chaos - as there could be no other word to describe it - of King Cross Station at twenty to eleven surpassed even the bedlam of Diagon Alley and moved straight into pandemonium with children rushing between feet, parents calling wayward children, the noise of familiars and the hum of bodies chatting.

It was all a bit overwhelming.

“You’ll get used to being around a lot of people after a while at Hogwarts,” Hermione’s Ma assured her, her hand coming to rest on Hermione’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

“I know Ma,” Hermione replied.

“Now,” Melissa began after she had pulled Hermione to a semi-secluded area and cast silencing and privacy spells, “If you need anything just send an owl, but make sure to send it to the locate wizarding post and not to write our real names. If you have any trouble go to the teachers or if you really need us just call for us. Make sure to take care of yourself around the full moon, and I know you know but remember you can’t tell anyone about being a werewolf.”

Hermione cut in telling her mother that she knew all this and pulling her adoptive mother into a tight grip. “I love you Ma. I’ll be fine. You and Papa have raised me right, I know and I understand.”

Melissa gripped her daughter closer with tears sting her eyes, to her, it seemed only yesterday that Fenrir had found the abandoned toddler wandering around in her light up shoes, and now she was a werewolf and off to Hogwarts. After an extra tight hug Melissa let her girl go.

-

The Hogwarts Express was humming with people, people wandering up and down the corridor, calling to friends and generally being kids. This is where Hermione found herself, trying to find a carriage, she’d already tried two carriages, one compartment had been filled with girls that had dismissed Hermione before she had begun to speak and the other had said they were full, though there had been two empty seats.

Finally to the front of the train, an empty carriage was found, Hermione hadn’t worried that she wouldn’t find one, Hogwarts, A History, had written that the carriage appeared and disappeared at the need of the students.

Taking the window seat facing forward Hermione sighed, her nose already hurt and her heavy book bag had started to tear. She was happy to be sitting down, at least for a few hours, it would take until early evening for the Hogwarts Express to arrive at Hogsmeade Station.

It was an hour later when Hermione was interrupted, there was laughing outside her cabin. Unlike when the laughter before it seemed to grow and the people responsible for the noise wasn’t moving on.

With an unhappy purse of her lips, Hermione placed her bookmark in the cease of the spine and went to investigate. Opening the compartment door Hermione was greeted with the familiar scent of the woods, though it was dull and stale, like long ago the scent was potent but had long since faded. Shaking the scent away Hermione focused on the group congregated outside.

“Sirius?” Hermione asked, seeing the boy for the first time in months. He was one of the first people she had talked to when she had gone to Diagon Alley.

The black haired boy squinted at her, “I remember your face but I can’t think from where,” Sirius told her.

Hermione re-informed the boy where and when they had met.

“Oh yeah, hello,” he said somewhat awkwardly, “these are my mates, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew and this is Remus Lupin, we just meet him.”

“Nice to met you,” Hermione told the boys, eyes on the Lupin boy, he was the one with the scent of stale woods. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m getting away from my cousin and I dragged James and the boys with me.”

The conversation began to fall flat. Hermione hurried to intervene before the air between the preteens could grow too uncomfortable, “you can sit in my compartment if you want, nobody has disturbed me in the last hour.”

When Sirius failed to answer quickly enough the young girl turned to Lupin, “I’m Hermione Granger,” she told him with her hand outstretched. She was almost sure that Remus was the other werewolf her mother had mentioned - he had yellowish tinted eyes and scars littering his arm - but she wanted to be a hundred per cent sure, touch would confirm.

Lupin nodded in return but didn’t take her hand. Hermione had to fight down a disgruntled snarl, werewolves were social creatures, they didn’t like to be snubbed.

“I think we’ll find our own compartment thanks,” James Potter spoke for the first time, an easy going smirk gracing his face.

Hermione just hummed in response, downtrodden that the boy she had thought she was somewhat familiar with didn’t want to interact with her, and not a little annoyed that the only other werewolf - for she was sure that Lupin was a werewolf - didn’t want to even touch her. A deep ache built in her chest, this loneliness, she hoped wouldn’t be a continuous feature in her schooling.

Sitting alone, Hermione assured herself that she wouldn’t be alone, she would have a pack, her own wizarding pack.

\--

After the boat ride, and the first glimpse at Hogwarts under a starry sky the first year were all huddled together on the steps before a huge set of wooden double doors. In clusters the first years talked in groups, Hermione stood somewhat off to the side, next to a gangly boy with rather unfortunate features and a starling pretty redhead.

“I want to be in Gryffindor,” the girl was telling the boy. “They are brave and loyal.”

“I don’t think I am brave or stupid enough for Gryffindor,” the boy snarked.

“Severus,” the girl smacked his arm, “would you think me stupid if I went to Gryffindor?”

“Of course not Lily, I just think you’d be better suited in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, that’s all.”

“I want to be in Ravenclaw, but I don’t mind too much which House I’m in,” Hermione spoke to the pair.

The redhead turned to her, “Hello, I’m Lily Evans, this is my best friend Severus Snape. Ravenclaw would be my second choice but I really want to be a Gryffindor.”

Severus didn’t say anything, turning his body slightly towards Hermione but still through body language telling her that Lily was his and that he didn’t appreciate Hermione’s interrupted. Hermione didn’t care, Lily was the first person that had been nice to her today, and after the disappointment of the failed friendship with Sirius, Hermione was going to latch on to anyone that was nice to her. Her parents wanted her to have friends at Hogwarts.

Before Hermione could continue the conversation a tall tartan wrapped woman appeared, her featured were stern and her stance was strong. “The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.  
“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.  
“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Turning on her heel, the Professor gave the young students a few moments to straighten up before tapping on the large heavy doors, at her touch they swung open, affording the unsorted students their first look at the famed Hogwart’s Great Hall. Hundreds of students sat seated at four tables that ran the length of the hall, each pair of rows had students dressed in one of four colours. At the front of the hall was a long table seating a row of adults that were no doubt the Professors. The hall was warm with a golden glow, the night sky was startlingly beautiful, highlighted by hundreds of flowing alight candles.

Seeing Lily’s bewildered - who she had made sure to stay close to - face she launched into an explanation, “It’s enchanted, it's in Hogwarts, A History.”

Lily only gaped in response, in awe over the grandness of the magical world. And it was awe-inspiring, her mother had often told Hermione that the biggest folly of those that grew up in the Wizarding world was their lack of respect for their gift, for taking their otherworldly powers for granted. 

The large group of eleven and twelve years old come to a stop in front of the steps of the dais the professor sat upon. On a wooden, weathered brown hat sat an aged and frayed hat. The whole hall, teachers and students focused on the hat.

“ _To Hogwarts, you have come,  
To walk the path of wizards past.  
To join a Noble Hogwarts House,  
Of those traits you possess.  
Gryffindor the proud and reckless,  
Welcomed into the House of Griffins,  
Wit and Knowledge abound,  
Shall find themselves flying on the windows of eagles,  
Heart, loyalty and kindness are traits that fair Lady Hufflepuff revered,  
Protected and protective as the Badgers that are,  
Slytherin, those cunning and ambitious will find a home,  
In the House of the green serpent.  
Now up you step,  
For I am the Sorting Hat_.”

Hermione fought the urge to curse, yes, she had lived years technically in the Wizarding but she had been immersed in it, a talking hat was far from what she had suspected. It was a tradition for the details of how the sorting occurs a secret from those joining Hogwarts, her mother had refused to divulge how it happens, even with months of Hermione badgering her. 

“A talking hat,” Hermione heard Lily whisper from just in front of her. “A magical talking hat.”

The stern Professor stepped up beside the now silent hat. “When I call your name you are to come and take a seat, once you have been sorted you will the join the table of your appointed House.” When she deemed that all the children were paying attention she called the first name.

A dark headed boy by the name of Gaspar Avery was placed in Slytherin, then it was Sirius’s turn. Hermione - despite him not being as friendly as she had hoped - hoped he’d get into that House he wanted, he clearly didn’t want Slytherin, anyone could see he feared wearing green and silver by his darting eyes. Still Sirius Black almost sauntered up to the stool, his every step grounded in confident he didn’t entirely have.

When the hat sat upon the Black Heir’s head, Hermione could make out Sirius lips moves, ‘Not Slytherin,’ he seemed to mutter. A few seconds past before the hat called out the House of red and gold.

The hall looked to be shocked at the turn of events, but Sirius grinned and ambled over to the Gryffindor House, the first to be sorted there for the year.

Garrett Douglas was sorted to Slytherin and Lily Evans got her wish to be sorted into Gryffindor. A few names were called before Hermione heard her alias. Taking a deep breath Hermione walked past her peers and sat down where an innumerable amount of young witches and wizards had sat before.

‘ _Secrets, secrets_ ,’ the sorting hat spoke into her, it was all Hermione could do to not startle off the seat, instead, her fingers dug into the underside of the stool. ‘ _Not a Granger but a Greyback, and a hint of something long forgotten. Many secrets. Your loyal no doubt, but not kind, Hufflepuff wouldn’t suit you at all. Gryffindor is ill-fitting for such a witch as yourself, their recklessness and thoughtless bravery, not a path you could follow easily. Ravenclaw and Slytherin would bring out the best in you, but which would make you into the witch you need to be? Hmm, Ravenclaw where knowledge would be at your fingertips, or Slytherin where your ambition will be nurtured_.’

“Slytherin,” she muttered like she had seen Sirius do minutes go, although he no doubt had pleaded for anything but Slytherin. Though she had originally wanted Ravenclaw she couldn’t help but think was what was knowledge without the ability to reach goals. No, the Hogwarts house she would join would be Slytherin.


	4. Chapter 4

Slytherin was an elaborate web, each action would have a consequence and everything said was layered with hidden meanings that without the code were almost impossible to decipher.

The rules were to stick together, to show a united front, but everyone was looking for each other's weaknesses whilst maintaining their own superiority.

It intrigued Hermione.

She was fascinated by the way each conversation and interaction was multi-layered, Hermione, in that first night in Slytherin, had wanted to sit back and watch the back and forth, wanted to discover want they were saying and what was said without words.

Melissa had gone to Hogwarts, she had tried to give her unbiased opinion of each house, though she was partial to her old house Hufflepuff. As a muggle-born she had some gap in knowledge of how the Wizarding world operated, Melissa was by no means oblivious to the workings of the world she lived in but some things were known and understood only by those who lived by those rules all their lives, mostly they were little things that matter a whole deal. Because of this Fenrir was generally the one teaching the pack about the intricate and little things that made their world work, he thought they were stupid and pointless but he wouldn't allow for any of his pack to go without the knowledge of how to fit it with other magic folks.

When it was confirmed that Hermione was going to Hogwarts, her Papa had sat her down and had a firm talk to her. "Hogwarts is not like a pack. It is not even a series of little packs, it just chaos with those with power holding the reins over those without power.

"There is no alpha, it is all power, not authority. To thrive there you must fight to have your place in the hierarchy, not too high that others with power feel threatened but not too low that you are a target. Be a threat, but a clandestine one, let them know that you are not a pawn in their game of chess."

Fenrir had paused to make sure his daughter understood the gravity of his words, "like males all fighting to have the role of alpha?"

"Yes, exactly," Fenrir confirmed. "I do not know which House you will join but there is much you need to know of each House.

"To be Hufflepuff, like your mother was, is to be kind and loyal above all else. The fault in this House is their loyalty can blind their morals, can hinder their ability to change. But here you will find those that will stand by you through trial after trial.

The House of Gryffindor boasts the brave, the loyal and the courageous. Their folly lies with their prejudice, their thoughtless recklessness that prevents them from finding others fighting for the same cause. In the House of Godric Gryffindor you are sure to find comrades that will fight with you in any battle, but remember they seek glory almost above all else.

The House of Slytherin is where those that are cunning and ambitious will have the greatest chance to succeed. The downfall of Slytherin is their need for those of pure blood, and their inability to find allies in those that are below the standards that they set. If you are sorted here you'll find fickle allies but unmatched friends.

In the House of Ravenclaw, where wit and knowledge are prided, you'll have information at your fingertips, you'll have every chance to research anything you want. Where Ravenclaws' fall is with their jealous keeping of knowledge, their desire to know more than others. Here you will find like-minded fellows with similar goals and drives but you'll never possess knowledge they think is too valuable for more ears to hear."

When Hermione had asked her Papa how he knew so much about Hogwarts and the way the Wizarding world worked when he hated everything about those he considered less than Werewolves.

"I hate wizards," Fenrir said not for the first time and not for the last time, "but as a child, I had to be mindful, I had to watch so I could steal, to eat, to survive. Watching I picked up on these things. And," Hermione had watch reluctance mar her Papa's face, he clearly didn't want to continue, "and I… some of these things I just… know. I think before I was changed I was part of a Wizarding family, a family with a deep understanding of how the world works, there are some things I know that I shouldn't. I… I hate to think of the time before the Wolf, I can't remember anything solid but I assume that when I was blessed they abandon me. Though I am thankful that I can pass all this on to my pack."

Hermione had already been told about the war concerning blood purity, she had promised to declare herself the child of two half-bloods, better half-bloods then trying to claim an imaginary pureblood or link herself too closely with dirty blood.

Through everything, Fenrir taught her she was able to muddle her way through the first day of Slytherin politics.

"I can't believe she went to Gryffindor," Severus muttered in the morning as they waited for Professor Slughorn to hand them their timetables.

Hermione who had elected to stay close to the surly boy, shook her head disagreeing, "she wanted to go to Gryffindor, the Hat takes into account where you want to go. I think she'll do well in Gryffindor, look she making friends," Hermione pointed out, raising her chin in the direction of the redhead.

"What do you know? You've only spoken to her once, and she's my friend."

"You can have more than one friend Severus."

The boy only grunted eyes still on his friend that hadn't looked his way since she had come in.

"Eyes for a mudblood, uh Snape?" Avery asked from his group of pureblood first years.

Fenrir had taught Hermione how to navigate in a world that would hate her on the principle of what she was, of who she was born to and raised by. He had taught her everything she would need to know to not become an outcast, and she'd be damned before she let a potential friend suffer this deplorable treatment.

Before Hermione could tell Avery and his mates exactly what she thought of them - nothing pleasant by any stretch of the matter - Slytherin's Head of House wobbled over.

"I'm glad you could join my House, the best in my humble opinion, only the best for Slytherin," he chuckled like he had told a humorous joke, "if you first years need anything I implore you to reach out, I'm in my office by the Potion classroom if you need me. I'm dedicated to making Slytherin the best House it can be.

"Now what was I doing? Oh yes, timetables, here you go." With a final warning to attend each lesson Professor, Slughorn walked further up the table handing out timetables to his students.

"Who are you?" the question was aimed at Hermione, she was honestly surprised it hadn't come earlier, she knew Severus had received the same line of questioning last night. "Not a relation to the Dagger worth* Granger's are you?"

Hermione didn't answer his question, at least the second question, "I'm a half-blood. My mother's a half-blood and so my father." It was better to claim that than say that one of her parents was a muggle and also better than to claim a pureblood parent she couldn't name.

"Oh," Avery was saying nodding his head, "I knew you weren't a pureblood, my family is well connected, I'm part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," he raised his chin in obvious pride like he himself had had a hand in his family's status.

Mulciber was nodded along with Dolohov and Avery they were all the elites, the purest of the pure, the betters. Or so they claimed.

Severus didn't mention his blood, his dorm mates already knew and the House would assume but he didn't want something as delicate as blood status to be exposed at the breakfast table the day after sorting, and so as neatly as he could he inhaled his food to fend of questions about his blood. Like Hermione he had been warned of the issue the Wizarding world had with blood purity, his mother was a pureblood after all.

After the questioning was conducted Hermione went back to her breakfast, remember and nudging Severus to use the correct cutlery and glasses. It wouldn't do for either of them to be showcasing their lack of breeding. Sitting amongst the high-class Slytherins Hermione was eternally grateful for each and every lesson both of her parents had taught her, without them she didn't think she'd cope in the House of green and silver.

"Are you excited for classes Severus?" Hermione asked turning on her seat to face the boy face on. She had decided to stick close to him, he didn't seem to want her around but hadn't of yet, told her off for following him around. She would capitalize on this until she no longer could. "I'm looking forward to Transfiguration, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts we have those in the first few days," Hermione said looking down at the timetable Slughorn had handed her. "You?"

Hermione was going to continue before Severus grunted, "Potions."

"Oh, I'm excited for Potion too. I think we have that tomorrow, yeah tomorrow with the Gryffindors. Our first lesson is Charms and that's with the Gryffindors too, then Transfiguration after lunch with the Ravenclaw and -"

"I have the timetable Hermione," Severus cut her off, "I know what we have."

"Oh, right," Hermione fell silent, her lips curling over her teeth as she looked down at her meal.

Severus huffed a sigh, "at least I know the timetable is right now." It wasn't an apology and it would never be but it was close enough. Hermione smiled eating the last of her fruit.

The first class that the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins would attend was Charms with the Ravenclaw Head of House, Professor Flitwick. Professor Flitwick was a half goblin, though Hermione had been told that his height didn't take away from his strength, he was a world duelling champion after all.

The Houses had already divided, the Slytherins sat to the right whilst the Gryffindors took up the left side of the room by the time the Charms Professor arrived.

"Welcome! You'll find Charms to be a vital part of your magical repertoire, it can light your way," the tiny professor waved his wand and cast the Lumos charm, "it can help you carry great burdens," he then lifted the podium that he stood behind, "or it can unlock doors for you," his final show of charms work was by unlocking and relocking the door to his office that sat in the corner behind him.

With the students' attention solely on him, the Ravenclaw Professor instructed them to open to the first chapter of their books, safety considerations of charms work, chapter two was wrist movements while the following chapter would be about specific charms, their uses and how they were performed.

When the class had finished the short but thorough chapter the class moved on top wrist movements, focusing on the movements for the feather-light spell, Wingardium Leviosa, which the first years would attempt as their first spell, but not until later October.

"Have you read ahead Severus?" Hermione asked eyes still focused on the moving images in her book as she copied it perfectly, she had had months of practice, though that practice had been with a stick and not a wand.

"Yes, I can already cast it," Severus told her distracted, he was trying to get Lily's attention from where she sat across the room. When his childhood friend did look up and acknowledge him he smiled brilliantly showcasing his crooked teeth.

"What! When?" Hermione exclaimed, gaining looks from her year mates and teacher.

"My mother's a pureblood, my home is considered a magical home, the trace doesn't impact magical houses the same way that it does muggle-born's homes. It only tells the Minister that magic has been used at that residence."

Hermione fell silent, she didn't know how that would work for her. She technique lived in a wizarding community but their nomadic lifestyle and species might be an issue, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to where her pack were. Hermione decided this was a question that would have to wait until she got home, her mother or father would either know or find out for her.

When the bell rung, the student rushed out of the room, it had been a double Charms and now the children were hungry.

"Lily!" Severus called, waving to get her attention, "Lily."

Hearing her name called the redhead Gryffindor stopped and waited for her friend, with a promise to talk to her later Severus left with his friend, leaving Hermione to walk to the Great Hall by herself.

Hermione dallied, living the majority of her life in woodlands, the castle was wondrous, as the full moon was the next day she was stressed at being in an enclosed area, she was used to the openness of the woods but she still found the vastness of the castle to be comforting. This feeling was the main reason she wanted to seek out Remus Lupin, she was sure he would be feeling the same as her, they would be spending the full moon together after all.

Hermione stopped in the hall and cocked her head to the side, the full moon was tomorrow and as of yet, she hadn't been told where she would be placed for the duration. Hermione guessed that she and Remus would be taken to a wooded area or an enclosed space, in an area the furthest from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, maybe they would have the area scent marked, that was how the pack stayed in the warding barriers. Chewing on her lip Hermione decided she would go to the Infirmary after class let out after lunch.

As she was set to turn the corner to the Great Hall Hermione heard her name being spoken, "her names Hermione Granger, I haven't heard of her either, she's in Slytherin so she must be bad. I'm in Gryffindor to get away from people like her, I for one won't be talking with her, no matter how nice she pretends to be, besides she friends with that greasy looking kid from the train."

"I know what you mean," Hermione heard Remus Lupin saying, "there's something about her that makes my skin claw." Remus didn't know if that was the right description to what he felt around the girl but it was close enough.

Hermione stopped, the words freezing her in place just as well as if she been cast with the Immobulus spell. Tears stung at her eyes, it was only the second day and she was already disliked. She supposed she shouldn't be too shocked, this wasn't the first time someone had had an aversion to her, but now she was a Slytherin and so she would act like one.

Pulling her shoulders back and casting a disinterested expression on her face she strutted around the corner and into the foursomes sight cutting short whatever James had begun to say. She didn't give them any notice, just walked past them like they were too far below her to give any acknowledgement to, insignificant. Fenrir had instilled in her very young to be proud of her pack and her family, to be proud of her gift, of her magic and most of all her herself, it wasn't ideal that she wasn't liked by her fellow students but she would endure for she was a Greyback, and Greyback's didn't bow down for the runts of the litter.

Just as she reached the corner to the Great Hall Hermione turned back and took a sly glance at the boys, Remus had his head down, his honey coloured hair hung like a curtain, Pettigrew and Potter looked uncomfortable between the Slytherin girl and their mates. It was Sirius that caught Hermione's attention, he had that look he had in his eyes at the bookstore, a mixture of loss and stubbornness. That was okay, Hermione could match him in stubbornness.

She met with Severus in the Hall for lunch not saying a word to the boy that had abandoned her for the pretty redhead - not that she blamed him, they were friends before Hogwarts - eating as if nothing happened, because it hadn't, at least that what she told herself.

Transfiguration was fun and a lot like Charms although with a practical component that wouldn't be repeated until the fundamentals were taught and understood. She had liked the stern professor and the lesson had been interesting, they had attempted to change a match to a needle, Hermione had earned Slytherin three points for turning the match into mental, it still looked like a match but it was further than anyone else had managed.

Now there were two hours before dinner and Hermione was taking the time to go to the Infirmary and talk to Madam Pomfrey, Hermione knew that she was one of the few people informed about Hermione's condition, and she supposed Remus's condition.

Not that Hermione wanted to think about Lupin right now but she was looking forward to running in a pack, no matter how much smaller it was compared to what she was used to. There was a freedom, a release in embracing their gift every Luna cycle.

Checking that no one was watching Hermione brought the wolf closer to the surface, it was infinity easier to do so now than it was any other time of the month, and sort out the scent of clean, of potions and lingering sickness. Letting her noses lead her Hermione walked the halls, it wasn't easy, she had walked almost the entire length of the third level before realizing that the scent was coming from the floor above, she had had to walk all the way back to the staircases, in the centre of each level, wait for the right staircase and the right floor before she made it to the fourth floor and to the Infirmary.

Grumbling a bit that the Infirmary for a school this size ought to be a lot more accessible - Hermione was ignoring the fact that she could have easily asked one of the upper years to led her there, she was Slytherin, favours come with strings attached, and besides this castle would be her home for seven years she needed to become used to it as soon as possible.

The entrance to the Hogwarts Infirmary was two grand wooden doors not unlike the ones that marked the entrance to the Great Hall, said doors were open and Hermione could hear and smell the Nurse moving around out of sight.

Coming to a stop beside a row of beds Hermione called out, "Madam Pomfrey."

"Just a moment," a voice called from behind a closed door. "I'll be with you in just a moment."

As she said, the Nurse appeared moments later, seeing no obvious injuries the Madam asked, "yes? What is it you need dear?"

"I'm one of the students," Hermione told her, hoping she'd make the leap. She didn't by the look of confusion, "the night students. I'm Hermione Granger."

Again her eyebrow creased until she uttered a faint, "oh," nodding to herself. "Yes, dear. The headmaster informed me about your condition."

Hermione didn't like the way she said condition like her gift was something to be ashamed of, she was proud to be a wolf, but knew others thought it was a curse, without this curse Hermione wouldn't be alive. Hermione dug her nails into her hands a little, she couldn't show her displeasure at that, and really she knew the Nurse knew no better.

"Yes, I was wondering about the tonight and how it will go, where we'll be placed-"

"We'll?" Madam Pomfrey said surprised.

"Yes. Me and Remus Lupin, the other first year with our gi- uh our condition."

"Oh dear, I have to get the Headmaster."

"The headmaster?" Hermione asked unsurely, she didn't think she'd done anything to upset the nurse, nothing that would require the headmaster's presence anyway. Hermione had assumed that the matter had already been arranged, did they really have two werewolf children on Hogwarts grounds without a plan?

"Wait just a moment while I contact the Headmaster. Take a seat on one of the beds and we'll be with you in a few moments."

Just as they asked, Hermione was seated on a clean hospital bed when the Madam returned with the Headmaster in tow. The Headmaster was much more intimidating up close, at the sorting she hadn't appreciated the presence and power of Albus Dumbledore, but confronted with his dominating aura, Hermione admitted to herself that she was intimidated. Hermione's senses allowed her to see beyond the grandfather image the Headmaster portrayed, her wolf wouldn't allow itself to be vulnerable because it couldn't read someones' true face.

"Miss Granger, I must say it is a pleasure to meet you. Your mother was a great student and I have great hope that you'll success despite adversities. Now I understand you have uncovered Mr Lupin's condition, the same curse that befell you, yes?" Dumbledore waited until Hermione nodded, "and our dear Madam Pomfrey has informed me that you assumed that you'll be spending the full moon together?"

"Well, it does it makes sense, Headmaster," Hermione said trying to keep her tone respectful, but to her, he seemed awfully condescending. "There had been studies that prove that werewolves spending the transformation hours together are less dangerous, for the werewolves themselves and for others." She knew there were studies, she had read every one that she could get her hands on, even the bias and unsavoury ones.

"Yes, be that as it may, I have made a promise, Lord and Lady Lupin have requested that no one other than those that have to know, know about young Lupin's condition." She didn't like that way he said condition if he had said curse it would have been less offensive.

Hermione had a horrible gut feeling where this was going. "But sir, surely you understanding that it's better for the well being of both of us -"

"Miss Granger," the Headmaster spoke with a warning in his voice. "You and Mister Lupin will not be spending the full moon together."

Hermione knew when to not push the buttons of those that had power over her, but she needed this question answered, "I understand Headmaster... but where will I be placed?"

"The Forbidden Forest."


	5. Chapter 5

There was something distinctly sinister about the foreboding Forbidden Forest at night, even in the day, it was off-putting, hardly needing the Headmaster's warning to admonish the Hogwarts students from losing themselves in a place where they'd be gobbled up and spat back as a skeleton. The Forbidden Forest was adeptly named, it housed many dark creatures, class XXX to XXXX magical creatures called the forest that surrounded Britain's sole wizarding school home. It was forbidden - as the named suggested - for any student to enter the forest, and ill-advised for anyone else to enter either. Growing up Hermione had spent years surrounded by woods similar to the Forbidden Forest, she'd shared lands with dark creatures - by the Ministry's standpoint she was a dark creature - but none had carried the warning these woodlands did. Maybe it was because she was surrounded by the pack that the forest never seemed scary, Hermione hypothesized.

"Would you like a lemon drop?" Albus Dumbledore inquired, his hands already busy opening his own. He had appointed himself as Hermione's guide - or perhaps guard. Hermione couldn't help but envy Lupin, he was being taken to another secure location by Madam Pomfrey, she would be a sight better than the brightly dressed Headmaster.

"No, thank you, sir," Hermione said, her hand clenched in the skirt of her uniform as she walked beside the much taller, older man. They were making their way out the back of Hogwarts, across the grounds and towards the looming forest, the Headmaster had assured her that they would remain unseen, cheerfully explaining the disillusionment charm.

"It's not far now," the Headmaster continued, "I'll walk you about two hundred metres into the forest, and there I'll place a containment charm around you."

To use a containment charm on a werewolf was the same as placing a cage around a dog, although the walls of a dog's cage didn't shock its prisoner with pain similar to an Unforgivable. Her father spoke of it in a voice coloured with trauma, with haunted memories that lingered at the edge of your thoughts.

Hermione was so unprepared for his words that she tripped on a rock that had been hidden in the grass, giving herself a grazed knee, her hands slamming into the soil. For a second she was frozen, unfeeling of the stinging pain of the wound before time sped up and she comprehended the Headmaster's words.

He wouldn't do this, surely, would he?

Dumbledore exclaimed, reaching down and helping her, releasing her when she was back on her feet. "You must be careful Miss Granger, there are dangers in each step when one is not aware of what's in front of oneself."

The words were very Slytherin. Hermione would recognise it, even if she hadn't spent the last few days surrounded by other snakes. Hermione knew what containment charms met, she knew that they were a regularly used practice for wizard-kind when dealing with those with the Moon's gift. She was aware that the general public knew that they caused devastating pain, there could be no chance that the Headmaster didn't know. The wizarding world werewolves so much that their pain was acceptable when their lives were at risk or perceived risk.

Hermione swallowed her questions. If my father can endure, so can I. And I don't care, if Lupin was enduring the same treatment, I will tell him so that we can suffer together. They were pack animals, and while Hermione was without her true pack Lupin would have to suffice even if he was unaware.

Straightening her shoulders, she pulled herself up to her full height and banished all expression from her face, it was a look she'd seen countless pureblood portray. It was a shield. If she was to be treated like an animal she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her bark. Greybacks didn't perform for any wand-waver.

A tense silence befell the pair, not even fracturing as they crossed into the woodlands.

As they walked Hermione was fighting an internal war, should she tell her parents? There would be repercussions to that path, for one Hermione would lose any chance of a true magical education, and the rage it would create in Fenrir. Or should she suck it up? That would mean lying, not a white lie, but a lie that would grow, maybe she'd say it so much that she would believe it herself. She had read stories about that, about someone lying until it became truth.

A vision of Fenrir captured flashed in her mind, steeled her resolve, she would remain mum. But this wouldn't be the end, she was far too Slytherin for it to end there.

The castle grew slightly smaller and the forest taller and more chilling with every step. The Headmaster looked out of place in his lilac robes, the suns and moons of the cloth twinkled just like she saw Dumbledore's eyes do. With hardly a misstep they walk over the disappeared from sight and entered the true daunting depths of the Forbidden Forest.

"We're here Miss Granger."

'Here,' was a clearing, the towering trees seemed to lean, their fingers reaching down as if to caress her. The faint light was fading with speed, she had half an hour at most, maybe less. The nights fell early in the Scottish Highlands.

If Hermione stood on her tiptoes she would see the tip of the astronomy tower in the distance, half obstructed from view by the trees. It was a bit too close to the school and ground for Hermione's liking but none of this was within her control. She hadn't had any control or say since she arrived at Hogwarts.

The headmaster directed her to the centre of the clearing marked by a stump. Hermione couldn't help but think how different this was from her usual shifts, her moon nights before Hogwarts had involved the pack, her parents comfort and the surety that she was somewhere know, a place where the pack could run uninhibited by magic or muggles. The air had always strummed with anticipation, it never carried fear or this uncertainty.

Hermione feverish wished for that.

"Do you need anything?" Dumbledore asked the first year student his wand already half raised to begin casting.

 _My father, my mother, my pack_. Hermione thought in rapid succession without voicing this, she nodded, she was as ready as she could be.

With each incantation, a dome appeared around Hermione, bright purple swirled with blues marking the boundary. It reminded the young Slytherin of bubble mixture, how could something so beautiful scare her seemingly indomitable father?

-

Bones broke, cracked, pierced the skin before sinking down and fusing to broken bones. Nails painstakingly peeled off the existing nail, shooting up and growing over naked nail beds. The skin was the worse, it ripped and tore, but worst of all it stretched, it pulled and pulled and pulled, stretching grotesquely over protruding bones.

Finally, the skull began to fracture, reshaping, and Hermione knew no more as a howl ripped through the Forbidden Forest.

-

When the moon had had its full of the sky, she surrendered, bowing out of the sky and making way for the sun to warm the earth. In a clearing not far from the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was the naked form of a twelve-year-old werewolf, broken and bloodied. Defeated.

It was as the sun was seizing the sky that Hermione woke. This shift had been different, far different from any she had experienced beforehand, even worse than her first shift. After her first full moon, she had ached but now, at that moment, Hermione wished for Death to embrace her. Everything hurt, throbbing under the sky. Her bones, her skin, her joints, even her eyes and hair hurt.

Hermione turned over, naked on the ground, and sobbed into the forest fall. The heart-wrenching sobs that stole your breath and caused your chest to feel as if it had been hit with a Reductor Curse.

She keened, one hand dug into the dirt below her, the other grabbed at her chest. "Daddy, Daddy I need you," she sobbed. _It was agony._

She remembered.

Remembered everything, remembered the pain, she could feel phantom pains, she knew where her skin had ripped, could feel the fractures that littered her bones. No werewolf ever remembered the pain, normally they felt the throbbing pain of exhausted and healing muscles. Hermione finally understood the haunted look her father had carried that night he had talked about the containment charm. It was pain beyond words.

Every time her wolf had crashed against the warding charm she had been shocked, shocked until the skin had burned and smoked right down to the bone. The wolf didn't want to be contained, was used to the freedom of towering mountains and sprawling lands, it didn't understand why the forest was there but they couldn't reach it. So it had tried, and tried and tried. Tried to find the freedom that was so close, even as bones was exposed the wolf had fought on, desperate.

-

There was a 'whoosh' of a broom flying before feet rushed across the ground, "Oh, oh dear," Hermione recognised Madam Pomfrey's voice, "on Merlin," she cursed.

The nurse lent down and her wand already out casting diagnostic charms followed by healing charms. "Merlin and Morgana," the nurse cursed again. "Okay, Miss Granger we're going to have to move you, I know it will hurt dear but we need to get you to the Infirmary." She berated herself for not having pain relief potion on hand.

Hermione but couldn't response pass her heaving sobs. They tore their way from her throat until she was sure that they would stop her breathing altogether. Part of her wished they would.

A charm fell over Hermione, lifting and straightening her out, she cried out as abused muscle shifted and stretched out. Madam Pomfrey tried to reassure her but Hermione could hardly focus over the feeling of fractured bones grinding beneath her skin.

Hermione, through a window of tears, saw Madam Pomfrey wave her wand and knew no more.

-

"I think we have to reevaluate the placement of Mr Lupin and Miss Granger, Albus. I read some reports last night and they support Miss Granger's words. Werewolves are pack animals they need to be around others of their kind. It would significantly reduce the incidences of self-mutilation that is evident in the pair."

"I understand this Poppy but it just cannot be done at the moment, perhaps in a few years when they are stable and mature."

"Why Albus? Why are we going to let these to children suffer when we can do the bare minimum to support them. They through no fault of their own are afflicted by this dreadful curse, are we really powerless to help?" The Madam had joined the Healers guide to protect, to save, to help, to have the ability to help but no higher permission tore at her, stretching her Healer vows.

"Lord Lupin requested that no one knows about his son's condition."

"And you bow to him?" She was furious, who was Lord Lupin when it came to her patients.

"Poppy!" Dumbledore reprimanded, "do you think me so callous? If Lord Lupin finds out that anyone knows about Mr Lupin he has threatened to yank the boy out of school then disown him. I can't do that. I know both of them are in pain but I can't give them respite for one night only for them to be rejected publicly from the Wizard world as a whole the next."

The healer muttered a quite, "oh," before falling back into the chair she had abandoned to storm around her small office. It was more complicated than she thought. Personally, she vowed to find a way to help them, regardless of what the great Albus Dumbledore thought or had decided.

"Yes," the Headmaster said seeing his friend's dismaying look. "I want to help, it ached to not do anything but at this stage, they are too young to trust with keeping the secret if we were to bring them together.

"I find myself at a loss of how to act around Miss Granger. I know she doesn't trust me, and I'm afraid I can't do anything to change her mind. She sees me as a villain and perhaps to her I am, but that doesn't change the fact that this is for the greater good of both of them. If their pain is the price to pay so be it. I can't do anything to sooth Hermione, that broom has flown far beyond my reach, and because of this, I will protect Remus Lupin. It is vital we keep Mr Lupin safe and ignorant."

"And Miss Granger? You didn't see her this morning Albus, it was devastating. She lay in the dirt crying in pain that no child should ever experience. The reports from her mother said she had almost no issue with shifting, that she would be able to move and rejoin classes within the day. She'll be lucky to move by next week. And Mr Lupin suffered no shortage of pain, it looked as if he tried to rip himself apart. I predict that he'll be able to return to his studies within the next two days but it will be with no little pain. Albus, they are children, I took this role to help, to heal and here I am watching them suffer.

"If something doesn't change then… then there isn't much hope for either of them I fear."

"I understand." Headmaster Dumbledore assured her, patting on the shoulder he promised to find something to help them, the werewolf children of Hogwarts. At the threshold, Dumbledore turned around and cast a spell on Madam Pomfrey, her shoulders slumped and her eyes grew glazed, she remained still for a second before reaching for a paper to do potion inventory, thoughts a little more clouded than usual.

Making his way out to the Infirmary, Hogwarts' Headmaster paused between two beds, the left side held Miss Granger and the right, Mr Lupin. Looking at their prone forms he reassured himself that what he was doing was right. If Hermione had to be sacrificed so that they both might have a chance to survive then so be it. And if he had time he would find a way to relieve the stress and pain suffered by both of them, but he had a school to run, his position with the ICW and his work on the Wizarding Government, and he had a month to find something to help them, if not, then there was always the month after.


End file.
